


Her Winged Words

by VerdiWithin



Series: Talisman [58]
Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Horny Longing, Separation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26960083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdiWithin/pseuds/VerdiWithin
Summary: Hades tries to cope with Persephone's absence.
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Series: Talisman [58]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1497371
Comments: 31
Kudos: 236





	Her Winged Words

**Author's Note:**

> Previously in this series:
> 
> Hades and Persephone have made an Agreement with Demeter that Persephone will spend 6 months every year in the Mortal Realm, and Persephone has begun her time away. Secretly, Persephone has a plan with Hades to shorten that time. Persephone is pregnant and no one knows besides Eileithyia.

"Hey man, how you holding up?"

I look up from the scroll I'm reading and scowl. What are my brothers doing in my courtroom? I blink, looking around. Where did everyone go? The bailiff, the shade coordinator, the stenographer--they should all be here when court's in session!

"I'm fine. What are you doing here?"

Zeus and Poseidon exchange a glance. "Uh, Hecate called us. Said you'd been sitting there on your throne for hours, not responding to anyone," Zeus says.

That's nonsense. Just a minute ago I was handing down sentences. Working through the backlog of mortal dead. I got involved in reading an interesting life scroll, that's all. I dig my phone out from under my chiton to check the time--oh. It's late. I blink a few times, try to clear my brain.

"How about you come get some dinner with us?" Poseidon suggests. "We promised Persephone we'd make sure you eat."

"Yeah, okay. I'll need a minute to change."

They follow me the whole way back to my office, yammering to each other about shallow topics. Trying to entertain me. Even while I'm changing, they stick with me, asking questions to keep me talking. I suppose I deserve this babysitting, for letting myself get in such a funk.

As we're descending in the elevator, Zeus apparently decides he's restrained himself long enough. "So, ah, Persephone went a bit wild on you before she left?" He gestures at the ring of bites on my neck, including Poseidon in his leer.

"I... asked her to mark me. She doesn’t like to cause pain, though. These won't last." She's been gone two days and they're already almost faded. My hand moves to touch them.

My brothers take a hint from my tone and show a touch of compassion.

"Hera and I were there when she showed up," Zeus says. "She was really strong in front of Demeter. You'd have been proud of her."

Poseidon nods enthusiastically. "We did our whole flood routine yesterday. You know, the one we planned? Demeter was there and whining about Persephone not living with her."

I've already had letters from her about these events but I'm glad for any news about my wife. "Is it very cold? I hate the idea of her being cold."

"Yeah, it is," Zeus says. "She was all bundled up, though. Seemed okay. And Hera saw her today."

I nod. The regular lunch of the three queens won't be stopped by a mere trifle like Persephone's imprisonment in the Mortal Realm.

Hermes comes fluttering up as we're walking to a nearby restaurant. "Letter, Boss-man." 

"Thanks," I reply, but he's already gone.

I stare at the envelope bearing my name in Persephone's hand, and vividly remember the day Demeter drugged her and made her write me a note before taking her away. 

"Do you want a minute?" Poseidon asks.

"No. Thanks, I'll read it later." I tuck the envelope into my inside jacket pocket where it'll be safe.

We’re seated at a nearby bar and grill, and order immediately. My brothers exchange surprised looks when I decline any alcohol, but to my surprise, they don’t try to bully me into drinking.

“So… that thing that happened, where you were sorta sitting there for hours?” Poseidon asks, gesticulating idly. “That happen a lot?”

“No. I’m just tired.” And depressed. I promise myself that I’ll discuss it with my therapist tomorrow.

My brothers keep up a stream of chatter all through dinner, prodding me for answers when I’m not focused enough. I just want to be alone, but I have to endure them. I know they’ll report to Persephone if I don’t show myself to be coping reasonably. I can’t be responsible for adding to her worries.

I hold off reading the letter until I get home. I’d far rather savor Persephone’s words all to myself whenever possible.

> _ Dearest Hades, _
> 
> _ It's been a productive day. Had lunch with Hera and Amphitrite, and hinted to them about what we're doing. They were intrigued and hardly stopped digging, but they also offered their support. I saw Arion, which was lovely. He's getting a lot less skittish even if his visits are still brief. Best of all I met your priest and my priestess in the village. They were very positive about the plan and saw no obstacles.  _
> 
> _ The foundation of the house is done. They poured the concrete this afternoon and I'm spending some time keeping the soil temperature in the ideal zone to help it cure. _
> 
> _ I started a list of things I'm going to do to you when we're together again. I can't wait to show you. Top of the list is 9,000 kisses. Have anything to add? _
> 
> _ Buckets of love, _
> 
> _ Your very own Kore _
> 
> _ P.S. Can you send me some bras? I want the ones that look like short tank tops, I think in the upper left drawer. There are 3 or 4 of them. _

I don’t know why, but her mundane request at the end lifts my mood. I can do this simple thing to help her. I write a reply note and bundle up the things she wants, then send the package with Hermes. I spend a long time swimming, to tire myself out enough for sleep. I try to analyze my feelings, and my blank period this afternoon. I feel oddly muffled, insulated from my own emotions.

All in all, that’s probably good. I could be losing my mind with grief, but it’s better I don’t. Doing that would be incredibly self-indulgent. I have to stay as positive as I can, for Persephone’s sake. I have to be there for her, even if we’re far apart. She’s doing the harder part of our task right now: fixing the Mortal Realm, supervising the construction, dealing with her mother. The least I can do is not fall apart and demand her pity. 

***

> _ Dearest darling husband, _
> 
> _ Congratulations Beloved, you ticked my mother off through your attentiveness and affection in the form of food and numerous letters. She calls it controlling and manipulative, but that's becoming such a tired argument already I'm not even sure  _ _ she _ _ believes it. I actually saw one of the cyclops workers rolling his eye at something she said. They seem to have caught on very quickly, and they have a quirky sense of humor. _
> 
> _ You asked what it's like living here. So far, it's kind of nice. The cook is very attentive and willing to feed me at all hours. The workers think it's hilarious that I'm living on-site, but they're all very kind and willing to move heavy things around for me. When Hephaestus is here, he asks me questions about the dogs, trying to be friendly. People come visit every night to keep my spirits up. _
> 
> _ It's still cold of course but the view is so worth it. The few moments a day when I’m alone here, I’m thrilled with this place. I can't wait for the house to be done, so I can share it with you. _
> 
> _ Sending you an advance on the 9,000 kisses. Also, have ever you considered the logistics of making love in a tree? I would like to give that a try sometime. _
> 
> _ Love, _
> 
> _ P _
> 
> _ XXXXXXXXX _

I hate the idea of her living in a tent, alone in the cold and dirt. I have to concede she’s tough enough for it, though. This is her chance to show her strength. I lived similarly when I was carving out the Underworld. Persephone is carving out a future for the both of us. 

***

After work I take my contingent of dogs to Elysium to let them run and play. They enjoy the warmth and the late afternoon sunshine. It’s currently a lot nicer here than it is in the Mortal Realm, but Persephone is hard at work fixing that. I throw sticks for quite a while, until they’re all exhausted and flop down panting. I sit on a rock with my new sketchbook and try to make some drawings, as Psyche has been showing me. 

The dogs are very hard to draw. They move too much even when resting, and I don’t have the knack of capturing a dynamic image the way a real artist does. Still, I’m determined to keep at it. It’s something for me to devote my time to so I don’t brood. I have better luck with drawing landscapes. One or two are good enough that I think I’ll send them on to Persephone. When I’m tired of drawing, I write her a letter.

> _ My beautiful little goddess, _
> 
> _ The “sun” is setting in Elysium and the dogs are all worn out from play. Cerberus is glaring at me--he’s upset that I seem to be keeping you from him. I wish I could send him to see you. It would do both of you a lot of good.  _
> 
> _ I think from the tone of your last letter, you’re enjoying receiving all my notes. I hope they give you a lift. I can imagine how tedious it must be, getting through so much work and having to cope with Demeter’s constant presence. I thought a lot of little notes sprinkled through the day would be pleasant. If I’m cramping your style, just let me know. I can save them up and send a packet in the evenings. _
> 
> _ I think a tree might be a touch ambitious. How about we start small with a stump? _
> 
> _ Indescribable volumes of love, _
> 
> _ Hades _

As I’m arriving home later, I receive a very brief note: 

> _ Stumps are for quitters, I want a tree!  _

I snort when I read it, and ask Hermes to wait while I prepare a reply. I write:

> _ Very well, divine arboreal wife. After that, how about the top of a tall building in daytime? _

I hand that over to Hermes for delivery and he actually sighs at me. I guess we’re overworking him.

_ *** _

One afternoon I’m invited over to Psyche’s studio for a visit. I bring lunch with me, and Psyche welcomes me in.

“Eros will be here shortly,” she says. “He is bringing dessert.”

“Because you two have instructions to feed me up?”

She laughs. “That we do. I hope you do not resent it.”

“No. It’s very touching that Persephone is concerned for me, when she’s so busy saving the Mortal Realm.”

“Hey hey!” Eros says, jogging in with a large box in his arms. I just know they won’t let me go until I’ve stuffed myself. I don’t know why Persephone thinks I don’t eat. “How’re you doing, buddy?”

“Only screaming on the inside,” I reply, and immediately frown. I didn’t know I was going to say that.

Eros nods sympathetically and pats my shoulder. “I’m proud of you for saying that, you know.” 

Right. I probably admitted that because he knows anyway. What’s the point of trying to conceal my lovesick pain from Eros? We sit down and eat, and I quiz them both about their last visit with Persephone. It sounds like large groups of people show up every night to be with her, and it’s almost like a formal court. She doesn’t write me many details about her visitors, preferring to talk about the house and our plans. I hope the company is pleasant for her. At the very least, it seems they provide her a buffer with Demeter.

After we finish eating, Psyche shows me her current project. It’s large, and hooked up to the electricity. 

“I have had to learn a great deal to get this far,” Psyche says. “You are still certain you would not rather have an established light artist do this project?”

“No, why would I want that? I don’t care if it takes longer or costs more. You know us, and that makes it mean more.”

Probably what she knew I would say. She nods and goes over to the controls, turning some switches. “I am still experimenting with the effects, but I have found some that I quite like.”

The large dark panel lights up with tiny blue lights. They seem to flow like droplets, giving an effect like a waterfall of light. 

“That’s amazing,” I say.

“Oh wow!” Eros says. “Baby, can you do one for our house, too?”

She giggles. “I do not see why not. Watch this.” She twists a control, and the waterfall effect begins to cycle through different colors. She plays with more controls, and the trickle of illusory water becomes a gush. 

“Could you do something with sound, too?” I ask.

“Oh…” Psyche replies. “I had not thought of that!”

“Persephone is gonna love this,” Eros says. “Where do you plan to put it?”

“The bedroom.”

He grins at me. “Of course, what could be better?”

“Uh huh. Just see if you can keep your mouth shut until she gets home.”

“Sir, you cut me to the quick! I’ll have you know I keep secrets all the time!” He strikes a dramatic pose and rolls his eyes at me.

Psyche laughs. “But you like people to know that you are doing so.”

“Well sure, what’s the point otherwise?”

“The point is showing Persephone how much I missed her and thought about her while she’s away,” I reply. I don’t have much sense of humor about this.

“She knows that, but it’s beautiful that you want to tell her anyway,” Eros says.

“You are certainly aware she would never have left you if there were any other choice,” Psyche says.

“And that it took the imminent extinction of the mortal race to pry her away from you,” Eros adds.

I sigh. “You two should really go into the counseling business.”

Eros giggles. “Nah, man. You and Persephone are the only successful couple I know who also manage to work together.”

***

Persephone sends me a letter so filled with self-conscious tension that I have to laugh and write her a reply immediately.

> _ Incomparable Sweetness: _
> 
> _ When writing a steamy love letter I believe most experts would advocate clarity and well-crafted details rather than “stuff happens,” "you know," and "then do the thing." I don’t mean to be churlish and ungrateful, as I’m aware that such a document is a precious commodity, and difficult to entrust into an intermediary’s hands. At any rate, please don’t take my criticism too seriously and I beg you not to stop writing. I'll receive your coy, blushing letters with pleasure, and use my imagination. _
> 
> _ Your description of how we might best employ our courtroom after hours might have been a touch vague but was nevertheless most enlightening. You may be sure I have made careful note of your thoughts on the matter and look forward to a time when they might be implemented. This evening I shall endeavor to write you a lengthy description of how a stranger’s backseat might provide a venue for our diversion. _
> 
> _ Tremendous love from your devoted pedant, _
> 
> _ Hades _

Her answer arrives that evening:

> _ Imperious and Infuriating Smush: _
> 
> _ Most experts probably don't have to write their steamy letters while hearing their mother's voice outside the tent, or while listening to cyclops tell their odd jokes, or while nymphs wait anxiously for attention. Although, maybe that last one, I don't know. I'm doing my best but this place is very disruptive to the proper mood. I’m hoping the atmosphere improves once the real walls are up and the crew is gone, because--not to be coy-- _ _ you know. _
> 
> _ I lost over an hour this morning just looking at pictures of you. Not doing  _ _ stuff _ _ , just remembering. My mother finally stood right on the other side of the wall from my cot and whispered, "Are you ill?" I almost said yes, but the bubble had burst.  _
> 
> _ Every time I pass a letter to Hermes, he grins at me and I want to deck him. He’s just being friendly, but I can’t help feeling weird about it. You’re right, letting someone else hold my words is uncomfortably intimate and maybe that’s inhibiting me. I’ll see what I can do about that. The fact that you figured that out about me means something. Probably that I’m a soppy idiot and anything you say right now goes straight to my heart.  _
> 
> _ At any rate, I’m rambling, and should go to sleep. I’m counting the hours until I have you in my arms and my bed again. Or the wine cellar, a store dressing room, a balcony… I’m not fussy. _
> 
> _ Love and Kisses, _
> 
> _ Kore _

***

I spend most of my time working: plowing through the backlog of shades to be judged, and taking point with the new sports center that the Mayor and Persephone have been developing. I can’t stand the Mayor for long periods but I won’t let my wife’s pet project languish. 

In my free time, I swim, brush the dogs, clean the house, and care for Persephone’s plants. I also spend a lot of time shopping for furnishings for the new house, and sending pictures to the Mortal Realm for Persephone’s approval. 

All the times I can’t sleep, I write letters. I answer the ones she wrote to me, and write new ones that I set aside, ready to go. I don’t want to overwhelm Persephone--she’s working incredibly hard, and she doesn’t need guilt because I’m needy. I promised her that I would be honest about my feelings but I think I should spread it out.

One evening I venture to a furniture store to look over potential pieces for the new house. I take a lot of pictures and notes. This sort of shopping is hard with Persephone, getting her to register an opinion about something that will cost money. She’s still constrained by her mother’s strict frugality while she was growing up.

A clerk comes over while I’m looking at sofas and gives me the whole song-and-dance about warranties. I try to ignore her while contemplating what Persephone would want in a sofa. I come up with  _ comfy _ and that’s about it. I’m about to give up and go home for the night when the clerk chirps again.

“Are you married?” she asks.

I’m taken aback. I had assumed that she’d already figured out who I am. “I am,” I reply tersely. “I am  _ so _ married, my wife is mad you even asked. She can tell from a distance.”

The clerk gives me a blank look and tilts her head in confusion. “Oh, ah, okay. I’m only asking because I can give you a catalog of fabric and other options to take home and show your partner. Get their approval, you know.”

I’m deeply embarrassed that I thought she was hitting on me. “Oh. Right. That would be great, thanks.”

***

> _ Dearest Smush, _
> 
> _ Tonight's letter hit all the buttons for me. I cried, I laughed. And then, well--I think you know what I did. Exactly as you intended, I'll bet. Probably exactly as you did while writing it. (Twice for me. Did you manage twice?) I never would have imagined a furniture store after closing could be so much fun, how did you get the idea for that scenario? _
> 
> _ I'm sorry to say I'm exhausted and not up to writing the return letter you deserve. I'll try again in the morning, but for now I'm enclosing a few petals. You inspired me. _
> 
> _ I can't tell what I miss most, your voice or your scent or… other things. Let’s just say all of it. I miss you. Thank you for sending the hoodie. I really need it--it’s the closest I can get to a hug from you. _
> 
> _ Love you immeasurable quantities. Must sleep now. _
> 
> _ P _

I get up early, feeling restless, and take Cerberus for a long run. We end up downtown, and a familiar odor of sugar and cinnamon entrances me. I go into a bakery and buy a boxful of assorted pastries, carrying it home carefully in my arms. Kynora is accustomed to the routine now of checking in with me first thing in case I have something to send, and she arrives just as I finish a note.

> _ Good morning beautiful, _
> 
> _ I went out to that tiny bakery downtown with the amazing pastries. Do you remember the time we went there and packed a bunch of stuff for that picnic by those interesting rock formations? Anyway, I went a little crazy buying stuff and I realize it’s more than you can eat. Feel free to share. _
> 
> _ Love, H _

Just as I’m stepping out the door on my way to work, I receive her reply. She obviously wrote most of it last night.

> _ Beloved husband mine: _
> 
> _ I received the pile of catalogs and pictures you sent, and I will return my thoughts on furnishings as quickly as possible. I promise I’m not dragging my feet like I have before--you know how eager I am for this house to be done, so it can be put to its intended use.  _
> 
> _ I am feeling such hope for the future, because I get to share it with you. I can’t really say I understand my mother’s intended endgame, but the obstacles she’s made for us have only made me value you more. The harder you fight for me, the more patience you show, the more I understand what a wonderful man you truly are. _
> 
> _ Once in a while I think about thanking her for the insight she’s given me. That would really ruin her day, don’t you think? That’s short-term thinking, though. I want to salvage a positive relationship with her, if she would only concede that my choices are valid. I do feel there’s reason for optimism. You don’t think I’m greedy, wanting all my family to get along? _
> 
> _ All my love forever, _
> 
> _ Kore _
> 
> _ P.S. The pastries were delicious--I didn’t want to share but I did anyway. I wouldn’t mind getting more of those, but I’ll take whatever you send me with great pleasure. _

***

I’m staring out the window of my office, daydreaming, when someone knocks and comes in. It’s Persephone’s assistant.

“Letter for you, sir. She said to wait for the reply.”

“Oh, thanks.” I open the letter and read it, feeling my face warm as I do. That little minx!

> _ Dear Sir: _
> 
> _ I write to inform you that you have hereby been selected all-time sexiest being in all creation. Your prize is to submit photos and a lengthy, detailed letter to the contest judge forthwith, for research purposes. The judge is prepared to provide confidential protection for said materials at all times. _
> 
> _ Yours very truly, _
> 
> _ The Mortal Realm Spring Committee for Amatory Exploration _

“Kynora, please inform Her Majesty that I’m delighted to comply with her instructions and she’ll receive the requested materials promptly.”

“Yes, sir.”

I’m pretty sure Persephone’s assistant is too canny not to pick up that we’re doing a weird sex thing, but she’s also smart enough not to let on in any way that she knows. I make a mental note to make sure she’s in the top tier for annual bonuses. Discretion should be rewarded.

***

The morning after I make a certain clandestine excursion in the night, Hermes brings me a tiny bunch of forget-me-nots and a short note.

> _ Lover, _
> 
> _ I had the sweetest dream last night. It felt so very real it was almost tangible. A scoundrel broke a promise in order to spend a few stolen moments with his ladylove. It made her feel the tender warmth of his ardor, the strength of his need. Secrets are the most delicious foreplay, are they not? _
> 
> _ Your devoted Kore _

I write her back immediately.

> _ Sweet Kore, _
> 
> _ All my dreams are about you. A few are as lovely as yours, though sadly they lack the verisimilitude you describe. Some of mine are quite delightful, and those I generally write down for you to share. Some are less pleasant, involving you refusing to return to me, or finding someone else, or just developing indifference. _
> 
> _ I don’t mention that to make you feel guilty or to demand your reassurances--I know very well, in my rational mind, the loyalty you have shown me and the sacrifices you’ve made to stay with me. I’m only telling you because my therapist says the current situation is exacerbating my abandonment issues, and he urged me to discuss that with you. So here I am. Obeying orders. _
> 
> _ I love you with all my heart. You say the word and we’ll go try that starting our own world thing. _
> 
> _ Your very eager Smush _

***

> _ Beloved, _
> 
> _ Busy day. Hephaestus persuaded me to move into the study, I'm sure he already told you. It has walls, a floor, and windows in place, though none of them are finished. It was the hot water that sold me, much more than walls. I'm there now and it’s bigger than my tent, and so quiet. I can’t hear the breeze and that's odd. Still, it’s pleasant to feel my privacy is more protected now. I have a door with a lock on it, and that’s reassuring.  _
> 
> _ Dinner at Mother's was exhausting but I think maybe we made progress. She expressed some remorse for her actions. Unfortunately I doubt there will be enough time for her to process fully before she’s going to get mad all over again.  _
> 
> _ The house is coming along rapidly. It feels real. I'm counting the minutes! _
> 
> _ Wet sloppy kisses, _
> 
> _ P _

The letter I receive first thing the next morning has a very different tone.

> _ Dearest Smush: _
> 
> _ I feel like I’ve been deliberately manipulated. Yes, one bathroom is done in the house, and yes, there’s hot water. However, it’s only the half bath that’s usable. None of the showers (or bathtubs) in any of the other bathrooms are yet hooked up. _
> 
> _ Okay, whining done. It’s way better than washing in the cold spring on the side of the hill, and more private and convenient than washing in the hot spring. I’ve been visiting there every few days, have I told you? It smells of sulfur but the water is luxurious. I can’t wait for the day I can show you. That will be a long time from now, likely once the weather has turned cold again. Still, it’s a pleasant fantasy. _
> 
> _ A more obtainable fantasy is just getting a hot shower. I stood in the space that will be the master bathroom shower this morning, looking at the stacks of boxes that contain tile and plumbing fixtures.  _
> 
> _ It’s going to be wonderful when it’s finished, the tiles all shimmering in the heated air, every surface slick with beads of water. The seat is nice and deep, as requested. The second seat, that the workers think is a shelf for holding shampoo bottles, is just the right height.  _
> 
> _ I sat up there and imagined putting it to use. It's comfortable enough for sitting, but not easy to stay in position with my feet up on the shelf--a little assistance would have been welcome. I closed my eyes and pictured you in front of me, all dripping and heated from the water. I thought of you holding me, touching me… it didn't take much. _
> 
> _ How’s that for a steamy letter? _
> 
> _ Your very frustrated Kore _
> 
> _ P.S. Can you take a look at Fudge’s front left paw? He was limping but he wouldn’t let me get a good look.  _

_ *** _

> _ Dearest Hades: _
> 
> _ I woke up this morning with the memory of you on my lips. The taste of your skin, the salt of your sweat, your come on my tongue. I didn’t even want to open my eyes. I tried to will myself back to sleep, to enjoy the dream that floated just out of reach, but it refused to cooperate. _
> 
> _ This evening I sat on the slope of the hill by the spring and watched the sunset paint the sky with gorgeous colors. I pretended to myself that you were there with me, holding me in your arms, so gentle and so warm. _
> 
> _ Soon both those things will be true. It can’t be soon enough for me. _
> 
> _ Your loving Kore _
> 
> _ P.S. Did you remember to order another sex couch? I can’t live without it! _

***

Hermes enters my office and hands me a formal scroll with a green seal. “Sorry about this one, Boss,” he says. 

I examine the seal: crossed sheaves of barley. “Demeter in a bad mood, I take it?”

“Yeah, you might say that,” he replies. “I woulda thought since she got her way she’d be all cheerful, but nothing doing.”

“Good.” I’m delighted that Demeter is starting to feel the consequences of her actions. I crack the seal and unroll the letter. There’s neither greeting nor closing, just a few lines of text.

> _ It is truly revolting the way you continue to manipulate the feelings of an innocent goddess who is barely more than a child. You play with her emotions like a cat with a mouse, just as callous and cruel. I assure you though--she’s getting better. Soon enough, she’ll see through your little games. She won’t be going back to you, I promise. _

I read it multiple times, and try to figure out exactly what Demeter is upset about. Persephone has mentioned in her letters that her mother is resentful every time I send food or a letter.

“Any reply, Boss?” Hermes asks. 

“No.”

I thump down on my office sofa. I feel like my heart’s going to give out. Demeter put her finger right down on my worst fear. I’ve had nightmares that Persephone is going to wake up one day and realize I’m not worth all this trouble and the alienation from her mother. 

Am I manipulating her? How would I know if I were? My mind wanders for a while, trying to figure out how I could detect manipulative behavior in myself. That sort of thing can be difficult to pick up in others; it seems insurmountable to know if I’m doing it. Maybe I should ask other people?

Hecate barges through my door and stomps up to me. “What’s going on? You missed the budget meeting.”

I hold out the scroll to her. She snatches it from my fingers and reads it quickly, then makes a noise of disgust.

“This is nonsense. I’ve been there visiting three times this week. Persephone hardly talks about anything besides you.”

“Really?” 

“Yes. Things you two have done together, plans for the future. She can barely keep herself from giving away the plan, she’s so excited about it. Doesn’t she write to you?”

“Multiple times a day.”

“Then what is your problem, you twit? Demeter is trying to manipulate _ you!” _

I blink a few times. “Right. Of course she is.”

Hecate nods firmly. “You’re still seeing your therapist regularly?”

“Yes,” I reply, a little defensively. “I know I’m a mess.”

“Shut up, you’re getting better. It’s not your fault this situation hits you right in your most vulnerable spot.”

***

> _ My darling little goddess, _
> 
> _ Am I needy? Some people say that’s how I’m acting. I know you’ve told me before that I’m not, but I really feel lately that I am. Maybe you’re telling me what I want to hear. I’m only asking because I promised I would be honest about my feelings. My therapist of course endorses that practice, and I admit it’s probably for the best, even if it makes me dwell on my feelings. _
> 
> _ I don’t want to be needy. I don’t want to drive you away and make you feel like I’m clinging too hard. I don’t want you to feel smothered. I guess that’s why I fear the label so much. _
> 
> _ Love you more than I can say. _
> 
> _ H _

> _ Dearest Smush, _
> 
> _ Yes, you’re needy. Is that what you want to hear? But if you are, then so am I, because I need you desperately. I need to hear that you need me, and I need to hear what you’re thinking and feeling. I need to know that all of this isn’t more trouble than I’m worth to you. I need to know that you’re just as desperate to be together as I am. _
> 
> _ So I think what you really fear is being inappropriately needy, or more needy than I can handle. And no, you’re not. This whole situation is a great big need-generating festival of despair. If you didn’t feel needy, I’d be devastated. _
> 
> _ I love you. We will get through this and go back to normal levels of neediness, soothed by snuggles and kisses and talking and other activities I can’t describe right now because my mother is glaring at me. _
> 
> _ All my love,  _
> 
> _ P _
> 
> _ P.S. Was it Zeus? I’ll kick his butt. _

I fold the letter and tuck it into my breast pocket to carry next to my heart and read whenever I’m feeling low.

***

One evening I head over to Zeus and Hera's for dinner. As I step up to the door, I meet my niece Eileithyia going out.

“Oh, hello," I say. "How’s it going? I hear you’re running off your feet with births.”

“Business is booming," she replies, tilting her head. "Seems like _ everyone's _ taking up the hobby of reproducing." She raises her eyebrows and smirks.

"That's for the best. There’s so many mortal souls waiting to be reborn."

My niece blinks at me several times, as if she expected to hear something else. "Um, yeah. Well, later, Uncle Hades." 

Once inside Hebe runs full tilt at me and collides with my legs. "Did you bring the dogs, Uncle Hades?" 

"Sorry, Button. Not this time."

"Awww!" 

"But this way I get your attention all to myself!"

She gives me a sly look as I pick her up. "I learned a really cool new chess move. Wanna play?"

Hera, in the background, is trying frantically to wave her daughter off this topic. I’m sure I know why.

“I’d love to! Where’d you learn the new move?”

“Aunt Persephone showed me!”

“Uh oh! If you’re getting lessons from the best, I’d better watch out!”

Hebe giggles with her hand over her mouth. “She really misses you, Uncle Hades.”

“I know. I really miss her, too.”

“When will she be home?”

“Not for a while, Button.”

Hera hustles up. “That’s enough bothering Uncle Hades, why don’t you go play?”

Hebe isn’t fooled. She glares at her mother. “Just because you make me not talk about it doesn’t mean it’s not true! Why is everybody letting Aunt Persephone down?”  
I bite my lip. “You’re right, Hebe. It’s true whether we talk about it or not. And it’s hard to understand, but we’re all doing our best to fix this. Truly.”

“It’s not fair!”

“You’re right, it’s not,” Hera says. “But sometimes things aren’t fair, and we have to cope with that.”

She looks at me when she says it, and gives me a grim little smile.

***

Persephone’s letters arrive so frequently, I don’t really mind that she doesn’t have access to her phone right now. The formality of writing to her on paper gives me time to compose my thoughts, to tell her I miss her without overwhelming her with guilt and sadness, to remind her of happier times we’ve had, and happier times to come. It makes our communication more distant and yet more intimate at the same time. We can afford hot and cold running messengers at all hours of the day, though I think Hermes is getting fed up. Particularly when we get going with a bunch of short notes back and forth.

It’s gut-wrenching, holding a paper that she held just a few minutes ago. Others have told me how she keeps notes tucked away in her bosom and takes them out to send to me. These details are a twisting knife, but I wouldn’t give up that knowledge. Knowing that Persephone keeps her thoughts about me close to her heart, touching her soft skin, is sweet torment.

The daytime letters tend to be straightforward accounts of what she’s doing, but at night, she pours out her heart for me. I learn things about her I never knew before. I learn that when she tries to draw people, she can’t achieve more than stick figures, but she can freehand a diagram or a graph like a pro. I learn that when she has reasonable privacy, proper motivation, and a good pen, she can write a letter whose words sear the page they're written on. Reading these leaves me shaking and breathless, desperate to capture my response for her enjoyment. I learn that while she very much wants to bond with Demeter and reforge their relationship on a basis of mutual respect, she can also be utterly vicious in her private criticisms. Though I guess I knew that. I love discovering things about her. I tuck these facts away with my store of information, cherish them like a hoard of treasures.

Friends come to see me, to check on me at Persephone’s behest, or just to spend time. It feels very odd. Many of these people are ones I’ve known for centuries, who wanted nothing to do with me, but now that Persephone and I are together, they’re my friends too. It does make me wonder about the nature of reputation and friendship.

The dogs are my faithful companions. We rotate them, sending Cordon Bleu, Pomelia, Russell, and Fudge to have days with her, and nights with me. It’s too cold in the Mortal Realm for the smaller dogs to stay overnight. Persephone’s letters tell me that Mushroom is loving the cold and sleeping outside while with her, and JP and Big John are doing well, too. I only get to see them for occasional visits. I don’t want to deprive Persephone of their company, even though I miss them.

Cerberus stays with me. The terms of the Agreement say that as one of my primary symbols, he has to stay with me during this time, which I interpret as spite on Demeter’s part. He doesn’t understand that he’s an extension of me. He just misses Persephone. At night he wanders the house, searching for her, and then comes to sit down in front of me, staring at me with sad, baleful eyes. Clearly wanting me to tell him where she is. Or better yet, to just bring her home. I try to tell him it won’t be long, but I don’t think he believes me.

Sometimes I too wander the house, in desperate need of evidence that Persephone is real, and not just some fever dream of a desperately lonely man. The refrigerator would normally contain a dozen kinds of fresh fruit and a stack of tofu bricks, but not right now. There are still five flavors of jam and three types of honey, along with a cabinet overflowing with teas, but those will keep until she’s back.

Upstairs, more evidence of her lingers. The odd cupcake-shaped sponge hanging in the shower, the precarious towers of makeup things on the bathroom counter. Her dressing room is full of her clothes, her pretty dresses. I could take out each one and remember when she wore them. If I did that, I’d be a wreck for hours. Maybe all day.

Instead I look at pictures. They’re all over the house: ones I took, with her smiling at me in promise. Professional ones with us together, looking so full of happiness, barely able to tear our eyes and hands from one another. Psyche’s charcoal drawing of her, curled in a chair reading a book. I love that one especially.

I’ve gotten used to keeping the house warmer than I once did, and leave that alone. It’s better for the plants, and the dogs too, I suppose. Persephone left an entire binder full of instructions on plant care, and she hired a service to come in once a week to check on them. I appreciate this, since living things aren’t really my expertise. Some of the vegetables and herbs in the kitchen garden are already producing. I harvest bits for my own use, and send some on to Persephone. Growing food isn’t noteworthy to her, but I’m excited about it even if I was barely involved. I send her pictures of the flowers, both for her enjoyment and her reassurance. I want her to know I’m taking care of things in her absence.

I trudge through my days like a shade, like the walking wounded: vague and stunned. A flash of pink in the corner of my eye is enough to send my heart to my throat. A husky feminine voice makes my head whip around, searching for the speaker. In part because they remind me of Persephone, but more because they remind me she is out there somewhere, and  _ someone _ is getting to see her and listen to her. I don’t know who, right this moment. But someone very lucky.

The only thing keeping me sane is knowing that this won’t last forever. The end is coming, and if Demeter doesn’t like it, she can go to Tartarus. I’ve got a nice spot picked out and everything.

***

> _ Darling sexy husband, _
> 
> _ Spring this year is so very different from all the ones I remember before. Obviously it’s different from last year--it was so odd for me to spend the entire season away from the Mortal Realm. Having been gone two years is probably part of what I’m noticing. _
> 
> _ It’s not all of it, though. The contrast between the Winter and now is exhilarating. I’ve never experienced a transition like it. If I let myself dwell on it, it makes me feel a little drunk. My emotions are intense and very close to the surface, but most of what I’m feeling is this low-level euphoria. It’s constant and unavoidable, and blends with the other emotions I might be feeling at the moment. _
> 
> _ Sometimes this is a pleasant combination, like when I read one of your letters and I’m full of eager anticipation to see you again. Other times, when I’m exhausted and sad, it’s a very odd thing.  _
> 
> _ Other people seem to be also experiencing a similar kind of “spring fever.” I’m told that mortal couples are deliberating coming here to Eleusis to make love. Various friends say that my aura right now is, shall we say, inspirational. I suppose this fact must be hugely annoying to my mother, which delights me when it doesn’t gross me out. _
> 
> _ Going to bed now. Love you more than I can ever express,  _
> 
> _ P _

***

My brothers have been dragging me out with them several times a week, and their latest ploy is playing racquetball together. We used to all play, centuries ago, but it’s one of many pastimes that fell into disfavor. This time, their enthusiasm came out of nowhere and is suspiciously high.

I make no attempt to resist. It’s a way to pass the time, better than moping by myself. Since there are three of us, we’ve long since developed our own rules, swapping a player out after every point. It makes scorekeeping insanely complicated but it suits us fine. 

I don’t try to keep track of the score. I just try to lose myself in the game, chasing the ball with single-minded determination. At the end of our court time, Poseidon informs me that I won by two points. I suspect him of massaging the results, but Zeus nods solemnly.

“Good game!” he says. “Why did we ever stop?”

“You said it was stupid,” I tell him. 

“That’s because he loses so much,” Poseidon grins.

“I do not! Anyway, you two cheat.”

As if I could be bothered. I wipe sweat from my face and take a long drink of water.

“So, wanna get some steaks?” Zeus asks.

He’s looking at me. “Can't. I'm having dinner with Artemis and Nemesis.”

“Wow, really?” Poseidon says. 

“Yeah, they invited me. My social calendar is rather packed.”

“Just a drink, then,” Zeus cajoles.

“Fine.”

We get showered and changed, then head over to a bar Zeus knows. I order a scotch, intending to make it last. I’ve cut way back on my consumption, which consequently lowers my tolerance. I toy with my glass and watch my brothers putting away their own drinks.

“What Demeter’s doing sucks,” Zeus says, with no preliminaries.

“Yes, it does.”

"I've been giving this a lot of thought. Being balanced. Having perspective. You know."

"So what does that mean?" Poseidon asks.

Zeus frowns. “You know how Persephone ripped out Thanatos’s godhead? Well, I don’t want to encourage that habit, but if she did the same to her mother--I’d look the other way. She could take over as Goddess of the Harvest.”

I pause to consider my answer. “Thank you. It’s very generous. I take it that you wouldn’t mind if we had a way to get around this damned Agreement?”

My brothers lean forward, wide-eyed. 

“What way?” Zeus asks.

“Forgive me for not going into detail, the wheels are still in motion. But a  _ legal _ way.”

He narrows his eyes and I wonder if he’s going to let me get away without sharing more. “Well, then. Theoretically… I can’t say I’d mind that a bit.”

“Seriously, man? You’ve got a way to trip up Demeter, in a matter of law?” Poseidon cackles. “That’s fantastic! She’s so proud of the sacred law!”

“Yes. Nemesis swears it will hold up.”

Zeus laughs rather nastily. “Poor Demeter, how devastated she’ll be to find out that someone else is a better lawyer than she is.”

“Not to disparage her skills, but it wasn’t Nemesis who came up with this. It was Persephone.”

My brothers exchange a look. “That’s even better,” Poseidon says.

I nod. I think so too.

Zeus pounds me on the back. “Let me know if there’s anything you need, but I think it’s better if I’m not directly involved.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. Having his pre-approval is very helpful, but I don’t want him in on our secrets. He has a way of messing things up.

“How long’s it going to be until you spring this trap?” Poseidon asks. “Obviously you’re not putting up with this six months nonsense.”

“Not long now.” The invitations will be going out this week, in fact.

***

When I arrive home that evening, Hermes hands me a letter, even while his face is splitting open with a wide yawn. He flits away without a word to me. I sit down on the new bench in the atrium to read the letter.

> _ Dear big studly man of my dreams,  _
> 
> _ The first pieces of furniture are starting to arrive. The end of this ordeal is in sight. I’m keeping the new bed warm for you. I do hope you’re keeping your percentage nice and high for me. You'd better clear your calendar. When I get hold of you, I'm not letting go for quite a while. I'm afraid we're going to shock some people, and I no longer care. _
> 
> _ Yours forever, _
> 
> _ P _

I scramble to find a pen and write a frantic reply. I have to get it down on paper, even if I don’t send it immediately.

> _ My Sweetness: _
> 
> _ Sometimes I get down on myself and start thinking that I love you too much. That nobody could possibly want the burden of my insatiable demands. Then you write me one of your letters, in which you tell me about your own ravenous needs, and my heart warms. You keep meeting me: demand for demand, hunger for hunger. I don’t know how you are possible. _
> 
> _ I will love you to the extent of my power for as long as you will let me.  _
> 
> _ Your Hades _

I have to breathe slowly for a while, and think about nothing. The day of our reunion cannot come soon enough for me. Persephone is an immeasurably long way away from me, and yet, it is within my power to go to her with merely the effort of a moment’s thought. The blink of an eye, and I could be in her arms. That knowledge just about destroys me. What’s stopping me? Some ridiculous scruples about preserving the mortals?

She would be extremely angry with me--after she kissed me senseless. We would possibly get caught, and that could lead to consequences that would cause her tremendous pain. At any cost to myself, I can’t permit that. But once this hideous charade is over, I will not be separated from Persephone ever again.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to Red for awesome beta work.
> 
> Thanks also to Spooks, scholarlydragon, daalex, Roselessthorn, artdork, porkiswayne, and Ellisemme for their hand holding, encouragement, and wordsmithing.
> 
> Follow @VerdiWithin on Twitter for updates and news.


End file.
